Chapter 1 – Memories

I won't keep chasing ghosts, I need somebody I can hold. Gave you my heart and soul...

In keeping with the rest of today, Kenneth listened to Against the Current's Chasing Ghosts on repeat, max volume through headphones. The heavy beat yet melancholic indie tune struck a personal cord with her. Especially considering what today signified.

"Ghosts, eh?" she mumbled under her breath. Letting the memories associated with regretful lyrics, she stared dreamily out of the window with deep brown eyes, her delicate features reflected in the glass. "How is she now after three years?"

With a deep sigh, she let her mind wander…

…

Three Years Ago

"Dude! You're not allowed to do this!" Gamian exclaimed, frustration mounting.

He was trying so desperately to make the girl in front of her see reason, understand how utterly ridiculous this whole situation was. Unfortunately, his argument was falling on deaf ears. He had tried to be understanding – this whole ordeal was… sensitive – but enough was enough of this obviously self-destructive behavior.

Nothing good could come of chasing ghosts.

Only half listening to his earnest pleas, Kenneth gave a shrug accompanied by an almost eerily calm reply. "Why not? I've been with her for a year. Why do you guys keep insisting I need to 'clear my mind' or something? I'm head over heels for her."

The dark-haired girl had never felt anything so… intense before with another person. She wasn't about to give that up. No way, no how. Anyone telling her she had to just… didn't understand.

Gamian sighed heavily, running fingers through his hair. "It's not that we don't believe you or anything… but it became a big deal when we did some research on who this 'Joella' is." Sharp eyes fixed on wistful. "She's already dead! The day you 'met' her was the time she was reported missing! And what's worse is somehow, you're the only one that sees her!"

He failed to see how the petite girl in front of him was blind to such glaringly obvious facts. Everyone had tried so hard to get her to face reality, but she just wasn't listening. Lost in a dream world.

Kenneth stood still, not wanting to accept these… lies. Instead of replying, she ran away as fast as her legs could carry her. Joella was here. She wasn't some… apparition as everyone seemed so intent on claiming.

Desperate for confirmation, she began her hour-long search for Joella. Eventually, she came to Arcadia Bay's junkyard. It was morbidly beautiful in its own way – like walking through a graveyard - surrounded by tall trees and bathed in golden sunlight. Birds chirped cheerfully, small animals rummaging through the refuse. Twisted metal met scraps of fabric and broken glass. Items long since abandoned rested broken and battered. With some love and care, some may be restored.

Nobody had the time or desire to.

There, she found the pink-haired girl sat on the hood of a rusted car, legs slowly swinging. She didn't even acknowledge Kenneth's presence, blankly staring off into the distance.

"Joella, I've been looking everywhere. W-Why... are you here?" Kenneth asked, catching her breath.

Finally, the pale girl turned to face her. Her voice carried coldness and a hint of anxiety. "I bet you're here to ask if I'm real."

"Y-You can say that. But I don't understand. Why are they saying shit like you're 'non-existent' or something?" Kenneth replied, confused and wanting answers.

"Well, they're right. I'm dead. A year ago. In this junkyard, buried." Joella answered bluntly, sending cold shivers down the dark-haired girl's spine. One word echoed in her head…

DEAD.

…

The memory was suddenly interrupted by a sharp stinging in Kenneth's head. Clutching at her head, she let out a pained grunt. It proved too much to bear, causing her to pass out.

…

Three Hours Later

Eventually, dark eyes flicker with signs of consciousness. Another groan left her lips, slowly recalling where she was. In her room. Her posters of Linkin Park were hanging around the walls of her room, with all the discography still in boxes.

"Ugh. What the fuck?" she mumbled groggily, eyes blinking away the remnants of her earlier collapse. When she remembered the flashback, she felt a pang of sadness but was unable to shed a single tear. "Oh… yeah. She's dead. I hope I find the bastard who killed her. Never did get any clues, other than 'Blackwell Academy'."

For so long, she had been trying to figure out the mystery. Whatever the reason, Joella refused to elaborate on it when asked. It was infuriating.

With a sigh, Kenneth shifted on her bed so she was sat upright. Her music was still playing, the same song on repeat as before. "I wish you left me more clues, Joella. But don't worry. I will find justice for you."

In a decisive move, she decided to contact Gamian. As she reached for her phone, she realized she'd been ghosted by the vast majority of her 'friends' after she transitioned. Some worse than others. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if they talked about her behind her back.

"I should just delete most of these contacts, to be honest. Let's see... Gamian, Tori, Stella, Adam, Heart, Effial…" After going through the list, she curled up in bed to sleep. Tomorrow, she planned to enroll at Blackwell with the hope of finally getting some answers. "I'm no photographer, but let's give it a shot."

-END OF CHAPTER 1-